


Good Lovin'

by fairlightscales



Series: 33 and 1/3 [11]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: 21st Century, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, COVID-19, COVID19, Corona Virus - Freeform, Coronavirus, F/M, Family, Grocery Shopping, Pandemics, Parenthood, Ross and Dem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23155465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairlightscales/pseuds/fairlightscales
Summary: The ties that bind
Relationships: Demelza Carne/Ross Poldark
Series: 33 and 1/3 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420387
Comments: 26
Kudos: 43





	1. Good Lovin'

"I ain't bein' turfed out of me own home!"

Ross, having given a death stare to the person who was about to take the last packet of toilet paper and secured it for himself, sighed deeply and closed his eyes. Every single article he'd read about COVID19 said that older people were more susceptible. "Jud, you're not being turfed out of your home. These aren't normal times. If we all stay at Nampara there will be less likelihood of you catching it in Sawle..."

"I's a fit man, I ain't catchin' no flu!"

Ross continued to push the shopping trolley while trying to come up with an convincing argument that didn't sound like a paranoid, spoiled demand. Having lost his mother, father and brother, the idea of the Paynters falling ill with a virulent disease frightened him. His phone rang. The ringtone was 'Something' by the Beatles. "Yes, my love..." "Did you get toilet roll?" asked Dem. "Yes, and we've got sugar and flour. All the antibacterial wipes are gone..." He heard her sigh. " You got....hang on... " Ross and Jud put two cases of coconut milk and soup, respectively, into the cart and made their way to find the industrial sized multipack of chocolate digestives. The store was jampacked and it grated Ross' nerves. He could hear talk in the background. "Mama! Jeremy's bothering me!" "Jeremy, my lover, come away, Julia's got...JULIAGRACEPOLDARK! How many times do you have to be told! AO3 is not schoolwork! That Chromebook is only for school!" Julia's reply was inaudible. "Do your homework and stop faffing about! Ross?" He chuckled." I'm here... " "Did you get Dettol?" He rolled his eyes. "Yes, and you were right, there were only a few left..." Dem giggled. Ross had to be persuaded to take this mission, he didn't believe the store would be decimated. "Did Jud...?" he cut her off. "I'm still working on it." Dem was in agreement that the Paynters should stay with them. "Papa!" There was a bit of rejiggling on the Nampara end. Jeremy was bouncing on the sofa, next to Dem and leaned forward to speak to his papa. "Did you get biscuits?" asked Jeremy. Ross looked ahead, over the tableau of frantic shoppers, at Jud securing one of the last few packs of McVites, clutching it to his chest as he made his escape. "Yes. Can I speak to Mama, please?" Dem laughed. "It's bedlam in here, Dem. I'll call you back from the car, O.K.?" "Alright. Prudie won't budge. I don't know what to do..." Ross sighed. "We'll figure it out when I get home."

Back at Nampara, the hall looked like a staging ground for the Red Cross or an aggressive bunch of mothers planning summer vacation. Prudie and Dem both prided themselves in keeping the larder well stocked but desperate times called for desperate measures. Should this illness become severe, Dem was adamant that they be in position to ride it out without going to Sawle or Truro for things they could get now. Club pack sized everything lined the hall. There were plastic bound packs of toilet roll and kitchen roll, cases of beverages, a giant jug of disinfectant, enough supplies for an army siege. "Ee never saw such a boiling o' people, fightin' over every scrap of anything in the shop! T'ain't like it used to be! Folk used to hang together, time back..." Ross looked askance. "All the more reason for you and Prudie to stay at the gatehouse!" Jud gave Ross a sour look. Ross' shoulders slumped. "Jud, I won't lie! I worry over you two going back and forth into Sawle. I don't want you falling ill! You can stay with us! "They looked at each other. Ross in consternation and Jud in irritation." I gots a home to go to an' I ain't gettin' turfed out!" Dem entered the hall with an expectant, hopeful look, soon dashed by Ross' tense shake of his head 'no' and exasperated look. Dem smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. "You made it back in one piece!" Jud gave a snort of a laugh. "Ee'd think it be the comin' o' Christ!" he muttered as he put his coat on the hall tree. "Never seen nothin' like it!" Jud turned to look at Dem and saw the same weaponized gruffler disappointment in her face that Ross had earlier. "You lot 'ave your 'ome an' we 'ave ours!" Dem took a step forward as Jeremy came into the hall. "Julia's not supposed to be on that site, but she is!" "Jeremy... " began Dem. She did not like the dynamic that was building between her oldest and youngest. Ross said, "Jeremy." He looked to his father. "Yes, Papa?" "Julia is using her device and Mama and I will guide her. You do not have to report on her behavior." "But..." Jeremy was not malicious. He did not seek to get Julia into trouble for his own entertainment. Jeremy was very literal minded and felt it important to correct Julia as she was going against what Mama had told her. Ross smiled. "I appreciate your sharp eye, Jeremy, but reporting on your sister like some sort of policeman will bring ill feeling. Mama and I will look after both of you. You must let Julia make her own way and she must do the same for you. Do you understand?" Jeremy wound his arm around Dem's leg and said. "Yes, Papa. Oooh!! Look at all the biscuits!" Dem laughed. "Yes, that might just about do!" They didn't call it a Club Pack for nothing. Jud went through to another part of the house. Dem picked up a packet of pasta boxes, shrink wrapped together in a configuration that could bludgeon someone. "Was it that bad?" she asked. "Worse!" said Ross with a bemused chuckle. "I don't doubt there will be fisticuffs when the people who came in as Jud and I were leaving see how little is left." She sighed. "They can't be forced to stay but I wish they would..." Ross sighed as well. "I know."

Julia was given a stern warning by Demelza to stick to her schoolwork. Jeremy was given milk and a currant bun. He was put out that the tremendous amount of digestives were being saved for some undefined 'later'. Ross and Dem remained at the table as Jeremy went outside to play with Garrick. Prudie looked from one to the other. There was nothing for it. They had to be firm. "You's lookin' at them websites again! It's naught but the flu! Them folk on the telly be scarin' people an' all, carryin' on like it be the Black Plague! Ee needs t'stop scarin' yerselves!" "Prudie..." Ross began. Jud interrupted. "It could be as bad as they say but we's still goin' home of an evenin'. We's got our own hearth and we's goin' back to it!" Ross bit down on a plea, accepted that the Paynters had made their minds up. The Poldarks accepted the Paynter's decision. They offered to share the copious amounts of supplies they'd bought. Jud and Prudie had little use for things like coconut milk or pasta. They took a generous amount of paper products, lemons, oranges, soup and an extra packet of batteries. However bad it might be, life would go on at Nampara as normal. They would go home each night and have their weekends off. Ross and Dem were disappointed, but what can you do? The Paynters knew their own mind. 

Ross looked in on Julia. He leaned against the doorjamb and cleared his throat. In a blink the screen changed to maths. "That was not swift enough, my dear." said Ross. Julia sighed. "I AM doing my homework..." Ross rolled his eyes. "At a snail's pace and with divided attention. It won't do, Julia. You are going to have to keep your mind on your work." Julia glowered, mutinously. "Everybody uses multiple windows!" Ross had half a mind to ask, '...if everyone else jumped off Hendrawna Point, would you...?' but he'd not become Joshua just yet... "Julia, work is work. You should complete your work in a timely manner and THEN seek entertainment. You can't be gaining the benefit of your lessons if you're spending time on these other things." They looked at each other in consternation -she believing him too old and he believing she was old enough to know better. Julia could see Papa was not amused. "Yes, Papa." murmured Julia. "This is your last chance. If you don't want to be monitored like a prisoner, you need to change your ways." said Ross sternly. They gave each other a half smile, like a truce. Ross shuddered to think how she would fare in 'online school' but at least she would be logged in to the school's system...Julia was enough like himself to be humbling. He'd heard both his parents words and admonishment leave his mouth, unbidden, towards Julia. He knew they hadn't swayed him either when school work was paper and pen and distractions were comics and books. Maybe there was enough of Dem in her to make her more sensible. "Don't let me down, Julia." He said as he left. A truce no longer. Papa had tied her hands with his love for her. 'Unfair' thought Julia, but effective. She resumed maths.

They had dinner. They put the supplies away. The grousing and sibling suspicion had dissapated. They helped bring various groceries to the larder and stillroom and resumed being pals again. Having rewarded their labor with milk and chocolate digestives, they had an impromptu dance party in the parlor. Julia did not have to log in to her online school day as early as a regular day and Jeremy was allowed to stay up a bit. Ross burnt a CD of upbeat songs by 'downbeat' bands and Dem giggled to see Julia and Jeremy dancing and leaping about to The Cure and Joy Division and Bauhaus. Julia had ceased to be a bratty tween. Jeremy had ceased to be a tattle tale. They enjoyed music, dancing and each other's silliness. Ross and Dem smiled to see it and were both thankful to have two wonderful kids. At length, they all readied for bed. "Thua Paint turs mite e-ven..." Ross spit out the toothpaste. "The Paynter's might even be right, but I wish they said yes..." he said, glumly. Dem nodded and sighed. "I know...It's done now...What ever happens, we'll manage..." Ross could see Dem smile in the mirror as he rinsed his mouth. He dried his mouth and turned to look at her. "What?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow. "They say one way to avoid catching it is to refrain from hugging and kissing." Ross ducked his chin and smiled. He looked to Dem, each of them daring the other not to laugh first. They laughed. Ross followed Dem to bed. They settled under the covers and turned to face the other, foreheads pressed together gently. 

"Then I suppose we'll have to live dangerously." smiled Ross.


	2. Just Call Me Joe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blinded by the light

Ross, somewhat stomachy, returned from the outhouse to see Jeremy standing by the lilac tree and a strange light coming from inside the house, as if a hundred candles burned rather than the ten or twelve that lit most rooms. Jeremy should have been in bed but here he was, staring at the light as perplexed by it as he was. "Jeremy...?" The boy turned. It was not Jeremy. "Good evening, sir..." and the little boy bowed. Ross was suffering from something he ate. Perhaps it was a dream. This child was not his son. "Who are you, child?" The boy tilted his chin up a fraction. "Ross Vennor Poldark, sir." Ross frowned, pinched himself. But no, he was awake. "It seems we share a name..." said Ross, uncertainly. The boy raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Are you a relation?" Ross drew closer. The light was as baffling to him as the boy. The boy, who said he was him, asked "Do you know why the candles are so bright, sir?" Ross decided it was best to carry on as if it was real life. Perhaps he would wake up. "No, I am afraid I do not. They were not that bright when I left the house." The boy blinked up at him. "Will you accompany me, sir? I am rather fearful of the light..." Ross took him by the hand. "Are your parents in the district?" he asked, wondering how he came to be here. "My Mama and Papa are with the angels, sir." said the boy, sadly. Ross patted his hand as he held it. "My condolences, sir." said the man, gently. They entered the hall and both struggled to adjust their eyes. The light was blinding and both man and boy were puzzled by Nampara looking the same and utterly different. "Sir? This is not Nampara..." said the boy. Ross looked at the strange, subtle changes. The blindingly bright lights that shone from various places. An odd looking hall tree with strange garments hanging from it. Coats that looked peculiar hanging there. "It is different, to be sure, but it is Nampara..." A guitar could be heard, coming from the parlor. Ross looked down at the young boy who called himself Ross Vennor Poldark. He must be dreaming, he thought... "Do not fear, I shall not let you come to harm," Ross hesitated. "Master Ross." He said. Might as well use the correct form of address...

  
Ross could not sleep. He had often been sleepless since the trial. He played his black Gibson and turned to the door, seated on the pew facing away expecting to see Dem. Instead, there was a man and a boy standing there, both dressed in 18th century clothes. Ross' mouth fell open. Prudie swore there was a ghost in Nampara but Ross never believed so. Here were two of them, grimacing in the parlor. The boy spoke, "If you please, sir? Why are the lights so bright?" The man seemed not to hear the child. "What the devil are you doing in my house?!" Ross looked at them with incomprehension. The man, or ghost, looked at him angrily. "Your house?!" Ross looked at the little boy. He was the spit of himself at six, save for the old fashioned clothes. The man might have been the boy's father but he did not look like his father, did not look like Joshua. He had a thinner physique and his copper lark hair had no waviness at all, but short on the sides and a black ribbon tied at the modest tail at the back. Ross saw a dark haired man, all hair really, long like a woman, seated by the hearth on one of two church pews. The regular settees that should have been there were against the wall. They were his furniture! His furniture was moved! The man held a guitar and had strange clothing. A tight fitting garment with odd looking bursts of color on it and trousers that were made of thick blue cloth. He wore no shoes and he was sitting in this blindingly bright room as if he owned the place. Ross removed his hand from the neck of the guitar and pinched himself. No. They were still there, squinting. "The lighbulbs are brighter than you are used to?" asked Ross. This was not some sort of drug trip, certainly... "Who are you?!" demanded the older man. "Ross Poldark..." said Ross. Both ghosts looked to each other. The boy looked from one to the other, then looked the the man next to him. He piped up in a baffled little voice, "Sir? Am I awake?"

Ross could not sleep. He left the bed slowly, so as not to wake Demelza, and intended to make some tea. The days were starting to blur. He had his phone and a calendar but he struggled to keep track of the days. Lockdown was wearing on them all. The Paynters finally agreed to stay at the gatehouse as the virus became more concrete and serious to them. They still had masses of supplies from Demelza's insistence on stocking up and the space to roam free, outside, on their land but the sameness of the days and lack of contact with other people was becoming a strain. As he went down stairs he wondered if he left the television on. He could hear men's voices, talking. Also, the light seemed strange. There was light in the parlor but it was the yellowish sort of light from incandescent bulbs, not the clear, white light of the LED bulbs they used. He began to worry there were actual intruders in the house, someone in the parlor... "Who the fu..." There was a small boy. Ross swallowed down an expletive as he stared at the strangeness of the parlor. The pews were there. The settees were against the wall. A old sofa that looked like it came from a charity shop was facing the hearth and his stereo equipment was replaced with, among other antiquated things, a reel to reel tape recorder. He stared at it, dumbfounded. He stared at them dumbfounded. The man seated on the pew, holding his Gibson looked like him if he went to a fancy dress party as a hippie. The little boy looked like him except he was wearing 18th century clothes. The second man, (the boy's father?) was also in 18th century clothes but did not resemble himself or the others. The man on the pew looked as confused as he was. "Who the hell are you?" Demanded the strange, hippie version of himself, holding his guitar. Ross was shocked to see another man in the doorway who looked enough like him to be frightening. He wore a white tee shirt that seemed too loose and black trousers much like pajamas. He was looking at the tape player like it was an apparition. He he did not answer right away. He looked at all three of them. "What year is this?" Ross pinched himself. No. He was awake and his parlor looked like the set of an old TV show and there were three people standing near. One of whom had his Gibson. The man holding the Gibson said, "1972."

"WHAT!?"

All three stared at him like he had lost his mind. The man (ghost?) asked, "Who is king?" The guitarist looked dumbfounded. "King? Elizabeth is queen!" The little boy laughed. "There can't be two Elizabeths!" The Georgian man looked wonderstruck. "You say this is the twentieth century?" The boy looked from one to the other as the man at the doorway said. "No! It's the twenty first century! It's 2020!" The man at the hearth had his mouth fall open, bobbled his instrument, almost dropped it. "Is Charles king?" The man shook his head 'no', "It's still Brenda..." The Ross holding the guitar eyes softened. "You're joking...?" "Look! What the devil is going on?!" said the man with the boy. The boy looked at the newest arrival. "Are you Ross too?" The other two men watched in interest. "This is like Dr. Who..." said the man at the doorway in an undertone. The man at the pew started laughing. It was disconcerting. He was so like him it was scary. "If you please, sir? Who is Doctor Who?" asked the boy. Ross watched these two other men laugh, but not from malice. These long haired men who said this Nampara was in entirely different times. The Ross by the door tilted his chin a fraction, spoke to the Ross with the guitar. "They'll not know about television either..." Ross watched the hippie version of himself grin. It was a feeling much like watching Claude come to life as a man and sharing a joke with him. He had been drinking more since lockdown happened... He joined some internet groups at night, a few times a week, chatting and catching up with friends, that had him knocking back a bit more drink than he would down the pub sometimes... was he drunk? The little boy walked to stand by the Ross seated with the guitar and they looked at each other. Smiled at each other. The boy laughed, lightly. "Your hair is longer than mine! Prudie would take you for a girl!" All three men were struck dumb, though the Ross he was speaking to recovered himself. "Do you have a Jud and a Prudie?" Ross nodded. "I have Jud and Dem has Prudie..." The hippie seated on the pew had a smile a mile wide. "YOU HAVE A DEM?!" The long haired Ross in front of him had a smile so wide he could not help but giggle. "YES! Dem lives next door, she is my friend!" All three men looked at each other, enchanted. "You mean Demelza?" asked the 18th century Ross, looking to twenty first century Ross in astonishment. "Yes! Dem lives with her aunt, Prudie and I live with Jud..." "Her aunt?!" asked the Ross in the doorway. Still in a daze, that three other Ross Poldarks happened to appear in the time it took him to use the outhouse, 18th century Ross came to sit across from the guitarist and asked the boy, "Is Jud your relation?" The little boy shook his head 'no'. "Jud takes care of me since Mama and Papa are with the angels..." Twenty first century Ross looked at the three other Rosses in front of the hearth that was not his hearth and said, suddenly. "This is a dream! The strain of the lockdown has finally fried my brain!" The guitarist's eyes widened. "Lockdown?" Ross nodded. "We have been indoors because of the sickness..." both Georgian Rosses, young and old looked to him in dismay. The adult spoke in a hushed, fearful tone. "Is it the morbid sore throat?" Ross narrowed his eyes. The term made no sense to him. "It is a new virus, not just England, all over the world, we are indoors to stop the spread of it..." The guitarist was dumbstruck. "You're saying, in the twenty first century, there is a worldwide plague?!" Ross nodded. The other three Rosses looked discomfitted. The long haired Ross stood to put his guitar back on the stand. "Well, what ever century you all think you're in, you are definitely in my house!" Twenty first century Ross leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, perturbed to watch this other Ross carry _his_ Gibson around as if it were his in a 1970s version of his own house. The boy sat on the pew and dangled his feet of over the edge for his feet did not touch the floor. The 18th century Ross remained seated and frowned. The long haired Ross was certainly right. This was an extremely strange future. "Is that Dem's?" asked the boy, pointing to a maple wood guitar with mother of pearl flowers on the fretboard. "Yes..." smiled their host. Twenty first century Ross was charmed to see this other Ross loved 'his Dem' as much as he did. It shone on his face as he said yes... "Does she like that you call her Dem?" asked Georgian Ross, a bit put off by the abruptness of the diminutive. All three looked to him, baffled by the suggestion that she should dislike her name. "Yes..." Ross looked at these people around him. The guitarist had the longest hair, by far, but all three looked more like each other than he looked like them. The two men had a garish scar, a vertical scar by their eye. Not like his horizontal one but the same side of the face as his. It was odd. "You say that you are all "Ross Vennor Poldark"? They all nodded. Ross, still not convinced that this was not a dream, (did he hit his head... leaving the outhouse...?) queried them once more. "We all have a house called Nampara?" Again they nodded. The boy was too young... "Is it true that we three," the short haired, Georgian Ross pointed his finger between them. "are married to Demelza?" The men nodded and the boy's mouth fell open. "You are married to Dem!" Twenty first century Ross smiled, the smile bounced about between all three. "Our 'Dems', yes." he said. The guitarist frowned, suddenly. "Does this also mean we all had Julia?" "HAD?" asked twenty first century Ross. "Who is Julia?" asked the boy. The guitarist and the 18th century Ross shared a look of sympathy. The modern Ross said to the boy. "My daughter..." The other two turned to him sharply, in surprise. "She lives?!" asked 18th century Ross. The guitarist's mouth fell open.

Ross woke suddenly. Frightened. He'd had a very strange dream and left the bed at once to check on the children. Jeremy was clutching his teddy, asleep. As he approached Julia's room, Ross could see that light was bleeding from under the door like Close Encounters of the Third Kind... Too much light but not a lamp. He knocked briefly and opened her door to see Julia in bed and her phone bouncing light on the ceiling. "Papa?!" Julia looked to him in the doorway, face lit in the blue/white bleach of the screen. Ross frowned. "Why are you using that thing? You know it's supposed be docked in the parlor!" She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Sophie couldn't either!" Ross sighed. "You're up talking at this hour?!" A voice was heard through the phone. "Tell your Papa Sophie's Mama is chaperoning this insomnia fest..." Ross grinned. Julia grinned and in a motion that recalled Dem strongly, beckoned him to come to her side. On the Enys side, Ross could be seen, entering the frame. Their faces close together. "Hello, Sophie, hello Caroline! Can you not sleep?!" Sophie giggled as her mother came near. "Hello Uncle Ross! It's not ten o'clock yet!" Ross smiled wider. Caroline was struck by Ross and Julia having a similar smile. Julia so favored Dem it was not apparent until they were side by side in the over bright light of the phone. Caroline narrowed her eyes. "And to think I had a placid, all girls chit chat, all to myself. You should go back to bed Ross! Wake up Dem and send her to me!" They all laughed. "You must make do with me, I'm afraid." said Ross. "Dem is sleeping the sleep of the just!" A voice was heard from the doorway. "She isn't! Judas! How can I sleep when all the fun seems to be in here?" Sophie's laughter came through the phone. "You are SO busted!" They all laughed. She was slowly gaining an American accent. "Is that Caroline?" asked Dem. Three heads now vied for space in the Enys screen. "Hello, darling!" said Caroline. "Hello girls!" smiled Dem. "Is New York still in one piece?!" Caroline chuckled. "As ever! We had to protest with those ghastly throw away masks on but I started on sensible looking cloth ones now that production is back on line. They'll be online in two weeks time. I'll send you some!" Dem and Ross shared a look over Julia's head. Caroline was forever herself. "Dwight's well?" asked Dem. "Yes" said Caroline. "He's cleared his second test! He's beaten it in truth! He'll be home in two days!" Caroline glowered, briefly. "Though I suspect he'll just turn tail and go back to the patients at hospital..." Sophie turned to look at her mother sharply. "I know...I know..." Caroline stroked Sophie's head with contrite fondness. Sophie looked enough like her mother, and so close on the phone's screen, it was as if an angel on her shoulder reprimanded Caroline "I have my conscience by me to keep me virtuous..." They shared a loving smile. Caroline then brought a teacup to her lips. Dem laughed. "Well of course you can't sleep! Drinking tea and Skyping at this hour!" Ross and Julia exchanged a look. They understood that Dem was chiding Caroline. They also knew Julia bringing her phone back upstairs after bedtime was not going to be overlooked for all Mama's cheerfulness. "If you must know, I am enjoying cocoa at the moment and have declined spiking it with brandy!" They all laughed. "And remember, we are five hours behind. It is the Enys household that is awake when they should be! It's you wicked Poldarks that are up too late!" They all laughed again and with a bit of reluctance on the part of all parties, ended the conversation.

"Julia..." began Dem. Trying to forestall a telling off, Julia said, "I'm sorry, Mama, I..." Dem kissed her forehead. "You can't sleep?" Julia nodded. "I couldn't sleep and Sophie wasn't in bed yet so..." Dem held out her hand for the phone. Julia handed it over and Dem stretched her legs out, sat next to Julia on her bed and got more comfortable as she set the phone on the night stand and put an arm around Julia. "I know life isn't normal, I know it's hard..." Ross was surprised to see Julia burst into tears. "I miss being with my friends! We talk all the time but I haven't BEEN with them in months!" Dem held her close and Ross got up to retrieve tissues. He looked in on Jeremy who was still asleep. "...and Sophie said the police beat people up! She didn't see it but her friend sent her a video were he was and..." Ross left the tissues on the night stand and nodded a conspiratorial look with Dem as he stepped back out of the room. This seemed to call for a mother's touch. Ross thought he would have to referee between them over Julia having her phone after lights out. He should have known Demelza would take the longer view.

When the moon is in the sea

Kosk yn ta Kosk yn ta

Silver pilchards call to thee

Kosk yn ta Kosk yn ta

Dream of starry gazy pie

Kosk yn ta Kosk yn ta

Julia slept and Dem left her room to check on Jeremy who slept on like one drugged. Teddy had fallen on the floor and Dem restored him to her son's side. Ross was still awake when she returned to bed. "Is Julia sleeping now?" asked Ross. Dem stretched, the startling crack of her bones resettling. Much louder than even Ross could manage, always a surprise. She nodded yes and then sat with Ross, much the same way as she had done for Julia. Ross ducked his chin, a little shamefaced. He had the same need of it as his daughter... He lay in her arms and she stroked his hair "The world's awry..." sighed Ross as he closed his eyes and felt Dem's fingers bring him calm. "She needed to vent, it's been so long, here at home and the news outside so dour..." She smiled at Ross, smiled into his eyes. "Do you need to vent?" Ross looked up at her in gratitude. "This is what I needed..." They shared a tender kiss. The sort that binds, the sort that buoys, the sort of kiss that reassures as well as conveys love. Dem kissed his brow and lay down beside him. "You weren't sleeping?" asked Dem, "Is that why you got up?" Ross lay spooned behind her, giving the 'angel of the house', who cared for them all her own turn to rest in loving arms and affection. He closed his eyes, the warmth and security of being each other's. They both settled for the night.

"I woke and wanted to check on them both. I woke from a strange dream." said Ross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Call Me Joe, Sinéad 0'Connor 1987
> 
> We came here across the great divide  
> Into the city, slander all eyes  
> We found a great love as we fell inside  
> They could not touch us as we'd go by  
> I've seen you the first time in Trogny's bar  
> But I'll see you later, we'll talk of black  
> We'll meet up for sure, oh will we not?  
> Away from all of the friends that you've got  
> Oh no, oh no  
> I said don't call me sir  
> Just call me Joe  
> Don't call me lady  
> Just call me Joe  
> Don't call me mister  
> Oh, just call me Joe  
> Don't call me sweetheart  
> Just call me Joe  
> You wear the best clothes that I've ever seen  
> I've seen your light and your poetry  
> And it's the best thing that there's ever been  
> You're both the beauty and the beast  
> That's how it is and that's how it end  
> Into another city where you live far away  
> That's how it is and that's how it end  
> You've seen my face but you've never heard my name  
> Oh no, oh oh  
> I said don't call me sir  
> Oh, just call me Joe  
> Don't call me lady  
> Just call me Joe  
> Don't call me mister  
> Just call me Joe  
> Don't call me sweetheart  
> Just call me Joe  
> "We never said goodbye, I said carry your purses with you now I have  
> Regards to you about our night this weekend and I'm giving you  
> Information, the leaves, the leaves they like your teeth. Come on  
> I'm not going to force you now I had this, this annoying dream. This  
> Technology of ours..there's this place that is ever so refined that  
> One one knows and a storm boomer with white light action..life is the  
> Shadow of a fish, multiple electrical systems you fly through, traffic  
> Lights that may open a door...a bunch of computer systems as clear as  
> A cut crystal painting...infinite selections as clear as a crystal  
> Show...weapons, tanks, lasers, and aircraft moving across the sky, and  
> Huge missles, nuclear warheads that stand out more than  
> Anything...ultimate satellites, spy cameras, infared sensors, you, you  
> Can hear the thunder and positive thinking and start to say: I'll make  
> More human development practices..you don't have to go and stop your  
> Field practices..such as human rights violations, yeah come up and see  
> Me sometime if you never ever want to intensify all communication,  
> Listen to what I'm not saying over and over...  
> I feel as if some traveller returned"
> 
> "It's still Brenda...": After a 1969 TV documentary about the royal family a joke name for Queen Elizabeth became popular, "Brenda" as if she was a commoner in a soap opera.

**Author's Note:**

> Good Lovin', The Rascals 1966
> 
> Lyrics  
> 1 - 2 - 3  
> (Good love)  
> (Good love)  
> (Good love)  
> (Good love)
> 
> I was feeling, so bad  
> I asked my family doctor just what I had  
> I said Dr. (Dr.)  
> Mr. M.D. (Dr.)  
> Now can you tell me what's ailing me (Dr.)  
> He said yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah (yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah)  
> Yes indeed, all I, I really need
> 
> (Good love) Now gimme that good good lovin'  
> (Good love) All I need is love  
> (Good love) Good good lovin' baby  
> (Good love)
> 
> Now honey please, squeeze me tight (squeeze me tight)  
> Don't you want your baby to feel alright  
> I said baby (baby)  
> Now it's for sure (it's for sure)  
> I got the fever, yeah  
> And you got the cure (got the cure)  
> Everybody yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah (yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah)  
> Yes indeed, all I, I really need
> 
> (Good love) Now come on and gimme that lovin'  
> (Good love) All I need is lovin'  
> (Good love) Good good lovin' baby  
> (Good love)
> 
> Actual 33&1/3 Ross and Dem would be 78 and 68, respectively if they were modern. But the Poldarks are eternal so I've moved them into the 21st century as they are. All you Poldarkers stay safe and healthy.


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